


we're looking down the barrel of the devil's gun

by ElasticElla



Category: The Get Down (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, HIV/AIDS, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 09:59:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8200925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: But then a boy drops a record, and Zeke thinks it's only his thieving fingers that tingle as he grasps it, doesn't notice the name until he's off the street.





	

**Author's Note:**

> title from devil's gun, last line from rule the world
> 
> um, i'd like to formally apologize now

Zeke remembers when he didn't understand why he had two names, envies his younger self's innocence. But that ain't fair, no matter the pain, he wouldn't trade his memories for bliss. His memories _are_ bliss, even if they come with sharp and broken frames, glass cutting his hands, small splinters sinking in, whenever he picks them up. 

He still doesn't know when his first name came in, carved between his last two ribs on his right side. Ever since he can remember, Mylene's name has always been there, a steady comfort. Remembers his Momma saying it was a lucky thing to know so young. 

But then a boy drops a record, and Zeke thinks it's only his thieving fingers that tingle as he grasps it, doesn't notice the name until he's off the street. 

_Shaolin_. 

Gods, it took him so long to stop thinking of the name as a mistake, he wasted so much time. With Shao threatening his life over a record, saying he'd never been in love before. It was nothing like having Mylene's name, not once did he doubt her handwriting.

But then there was the shooting, and the spinning, and the trading joints on rooftops, and slowly the letters made more sense. 

With every pass- record, joint, crayon, pigeon- Zeke could feel Shao's eyes on his finger. Zeke once wondered where his name was, if Shao had it or not. It was so easy to ask Mylene, he'd already spotted the _l_ by her toes. He'd been even younger and sure, known in his bones they would be together forever.

(The name is tucked behind Shao's ear, exactly as awe-inspiring as his name above Mylene's toes.)

Shao never got out. He said he wanted to without riding 'Ms. Prissy's lace train', and when they were seventeen, eighteen it didn't matter much. It might take them a little longer, but they'd all be in the same place soon. They'd all be living the good life. 

And then the outbreak happened, and there was no chance for escape. 

Zeke knows the way he writes him, thinks of him, changed after. Knows if Shao were here, he'd slip an arm around him, entirely too slick, and say, 'Let me be me again, your constant glorification is fuckin' impersonal.'

It didn't happen like that with his parents, and they died too early too. But then, there's too much pain, he can't possibly add the loss of Shaolin too. 

As a god, as a concept, supreme Shao lives forever, never died- couldn't have. 

As a person, Zeke can't keep dry eyes, can't write, can't do anything but mourn. 

As a person, Shao coulda shoulda woulda lived longer outside the Bronx. Would've been in a hospital that had room, would've gotten better care than 'six weeks, give or take'. 

Six bittersweet weeks, no work, all play, every moment afraid it'll be the last. Mylene and Shao only argued over silly little things, and still Mylene gave in too easily.

Shao drew the line at kissing- knew the disease couldn't pass that way, they certainly would have caught it by now. But beyond that… Shao refused, wouldn't risk their lives too. (It's the first time Zeke's words don't work, won't come together pretty and persuasive like they're supposed to.)

Six weeks, forty-one days to be precise, and he's gone. It's not a soft fading, or a violent rip, it's a low constant ache in his whole being that can't quit. It's his tongue and hands being numb, his mind stuck replaying every moment with Shao he can remember. 

He goes near hysterical one night when he can't remember, gods, it hasn't even been that long, and he can't- he can't remember everything. There's the record and dancing and spinning and the fantastic four plus one and kissing and when he and Mylene finally got along. There's the pigeons and the crayon and sex on the roof and smoking. But Zeke knows there's more, and now there's no way to-

Mylene and Ra-Ra force him outside, saying things about what Shao would have wanted and fresh air and in between their words the message is clear enough, _you're not grieving properly_. 

It's isn't pretty, it isn't useful. It isn't art.

Zeke can't make himself care. 

He goes outside, and nothing's changed. It feels like a betrayal, and Zeke goes through the motions. Everything's muted: Mylene's hugs, Ra-Ra's talks, Dizzee's long ass explanation about Shao's energy dissipating through the universe. Boo Boo is learning how to spin, and Zeke… 

Zeke isn't. He isn't anything. 

If he lives in his head, it doesn't hurt. If he lives in his head, everyone's alive and happy. 

Mylene snaps him out of it, brings him with her to feed Shao's birds one day. They're circling overhead, and Mylene's wearing a red dress, and Zeke breaks, cries into her lap until the birds tire. They land around them, Penny on his chest, and it still ain't right- but he feels like he can breathe again. 

Zeke knows why he got two names, the one on his ribs still fresh and the one on his finger faded. 

_He was honored and gifted, his name was Shaolin Fantastic._


End file.
